The Younger Wand
by lezonne
Summary: Sometimes wands have a brother, a counterpart made of the same things they are, making them equal. But sometimes, the problem is actually finding that brother wand...


Again

* * *

Hermione smiled from her place between Harry and Ron. It felt odd, almost insane, to be sitting back in the classrooms of the very school where a battle was fought not more than a summer ago. The wounds for everyone were fresh, even if the initial damage to the ancient structure was hidden behind banners and well-crafted spells.

It almost seemed wrong to be sitting back there again as eighth years, continuing an education that they put on hold because of the war. A war that took its final stand on the very grounds of Hogwarts, claiming more than a few lives.

You could read it across everyone's faces, how they were uncomfortable to be sitting around there. As older students they understood war, and death, something that was a bit harder for an eleven year old to really grasp onto. A summer simply wasn't enough time for pain to pass on.

"It's a bit odd sitting in here," Ron hissed, caressing Hermione's thigh. They were back in their potions room, the old teacher long gone now. Everyone was very quiet, muttering amongst themselves.

"I bet Malfoy won't even show," Harry agreed, glancing towards the Slytherin side of the room. Despite themselves, the trio couldn't help thinking about Malfoy, as this had been his favorite class. And this class was taught by his godfather, Severus Snape, a name that was not yet forgotten, and hopefully never would be.

"Leave him alone," Hermione sighed, glancing back at her desk. It was the true first day of school, the sorting and welcome-back feast having taken place last night, and already her best friends were trying to reattach themselves to reality by falling into the role of children, griping about age-old memories. They started the same issue on the train after the blond sulked by their cabin, not even bothering to stop in and annoy them. That might be their way of continuing on with life the best way they knew how, but for Hermione it would never do. Picking on people after everything seemed sort of… petty.

"You're defending him again," the raven-haired boy reminded her, looking at her over his glasses as she sank down a bit in her chair. "It's weird."

"What's weird is that after everything you're still complaining about Malfoy," she replied, glaring at him. Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"He killed Dumbledore," he hissed, his voice no louder than a whisper. It wouldn't do any good to have someone overhear them.

"Snape killed Dumbledore," Hermione replied just as lowly. "He didn't. Now stop blaming people for things. We don't need to go causing trouble the very first day of school."

"Give it a bit of time," Ron grunted from her other side. "He's acting depressed now, but by lunch he'll be his usual self again. He can't stay mad like that forever, he'll get bored."

"I don't know," she replied, looking around. "Everyone has their… scars. He has to have some too. I fear that this year will be quite different from all of our others."

"In a good way," Harry tried, forcing a smile. "We no longer have Voldemort breathing down our backs."

It should've felt good to say something like that, to acknowledge that they were all free from Voldemort and his awful plans. Harry defeated him, disposed of the elder wand, and that was that. But it didn't make any of them smile. Talking about Voldemort brought back terrible memories.

It was a grieving process, one that they were learning to get over together. No one is bullet-proof, no one can just turn their nose up to pain and pretend like nothing happened, not when it affected so many individuals. Things would never quite be the same again.

When the potion's professor arrived not five minutes later, Malfoy and his two goons were nowhere to be found. Hermione found that peculiar, and traced the badge on her chest. As Head Girl, she had been alerted on the train ride to school about who the Head Boy would be, and thought it was strange that he would dare to miss the first day of class, especially his best subject.

She barely paid attention to the teacher's name as he introduced himself and started babbling about how Severus Snape was a good man and he would try to follow in his footsteps. Hermione thought he was seriously kissing up to get the students to like him.

Fifteen minutes into class the git finally showed up, his goons in his wake. Oddly enough he took a seat beside Theodore Nott, letting the two buffoons sit behind him instead of on either side of him. The professor pretended like he hadn't even entered.

Apparently, that was going to be the theme of the day. Pretend something didn't happen and move on. Hopefully some of the teachers wouldn't be so nonchalant about late students, the Head Boy included.

When they finally began doing something class was drawing to an end. She found her curious eyes wandering across the room towards the blond, watching him examine the potion ingredients without interest. He looked so detached from the world it was almost frightening.

At least she still had a hold on reality. He seemed to be floating along through life as though he didn't give a shit.

His eyes wandered up to hers at one point, grey locking on hazel. She expected to see some sort of emotion there, but she couldn't find anything in his eyes. Hermione found herself looking away sooner than expected.

The eyes are supposedly the windows to the soul, and Malfoy's soul looked pretty baron. Sure, a lot of people seemed somewhat expressionless these days, but usually you could read something when you looked into their eyes. Yet Malfoy was like a blank canvas.

* * *

School proceeded well for the first week or so. Hermione grew accustomed to her new living space, a set of rooms shared with the Head Boy. It was uncomfortable at first, but he trudged through life as though she wasn't even there. They had separate bathrooms, and shared only a wall and the common room. There was a small kitchenette as well, but she doubted that he would actually ever use it.

She expected some of his bigoted comments those first few days, his lips spewing racism and crude words, but he hardly even acknowledged she was there. It was like she was invisible.

Not that she was complaining. Maybe being invisible was a good thing when it came to Draco Malfoy.

Everything was fine those first weeks. Then one day she felt her world flip flop by the surprise arrival of Harry at her door.

"Is Malfoy around?" he asked, wincing as he placed a hand on his head. She noticed that he directly touched the scar, and felt a bit uncomfortable.

"No," she said, quickly ushering him in. "He left some time ago, but I don't know when he will be back. Harry, is something wrong?"

He took a steadying breath, a second look of pain dancing across his face. "I was in the library trying to actually do some homework-"

"Really?" she interrupted, surprised. She would have believed that he was with Ginny before she suspected that.

"Yes, really. I kind of want to pass this year. Anyway, I was in there alone because Ron was hanging around with Dean and well, you know about Ginny-"

"Yes," the brunette interrupted again, nodding her head. "So what happened?"

He bit his lip, glancing away from her. "Hermione, it's starting to hurt again."

"What is?" she asked, her voice catching. But she already knew the answer before he responded, his hand on his head the telltale sign of it all.

"My scar," he whispered, yet his voice sounded like a boom as his words hit her. "My scar's hurting again."

* * *

**A/n:** Might continue might not, we'll see. It's just an idea that's been stirring around in my head. The 'younger wand elder wand' bit will be introduced in later chapters.


End file.
